Eos Rising: The Third Book of Regenesis

by D. Scott Dickinson

  Thick forest carpets the floor and climbs the slopes of the near foothills. Between the deadfall and open caves yawning down from the rocky heights, there are many convenient refuges for the couple to shelter in.

  They readily choose the closest elevated cave as ideal for the purpose. A spacious cavern through the widest opening, located nearest the base of the cliffs, it was their sons’ favorite retreat as young children. Fond memories welcome the couple to its protection now.

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  An-o-Peia’s eyes blink open as an unwelcome foreboding cuts short her dreams of Japheth, whose soft breaths caress her ear.

  Resting in the fold of his strong arms. Feeling the slow, rhythmic heave of his chest against her back. Absorbing the heat of his bronze skin against her copper-hued body.

  It is nearly dawn.

  The company is camped in the transition zone between the riverine wilderness and the Great Northern Fens. Where the landscape remains a part of both, but has not fully become either.

  They sleep upon the elevated hammock near the western river. Beneath the wind-twisted stone trees that sheltered the brothers on their journey south.

  An-o-Peia’s gaze is drawn to a shallow puddle of water, pooling from the dew dripping off the mineralized branches overhead and trickling down the trees’ shiny trunks. The odd ripples arouse her suspicion, and she wonders what is causing them.

  She is distracted by a gentle vibration of the earth beneath her. So subtle is the vibration she questions whether it occurred at all.

  But the pooled water still ripples, radiating released energy across its surface. And, she reasons, the two events cannot be coincidence.

  Untangling herself from his warm embrace, she whispers:

  “Japheth, wake up. Something is amiss.”

  As her mate awakens, she points toward an eerie red glow climbing the sunless horizon to the northeast. It is tinged with vertical columns of yellow and orange, reaching skyward like thin fingers clutching up to pull the stars down out of the heavens.

  Rousting the rest of the company, Japheth exclaims:

  “The horizon is on fire! And the flames are rising in the direction we travel.

  “I fear for our parents and for our home. We must redouble our pace to reach there as quickly as possible.”

  With that, the company sets out, silhouetted against the uncanny glow of the eastern horizon, back toward the bank of the western river. It seems no time at all before they have wolfed down a quick meal of silver fish and are walking briskly north.

  By the time the company reach the inverted vee, where the western branch joins its eastern cousin to become the great, broad river feeding both, the eastern glow is subsiding. Revealing the twin suns riding high in the sky overhead.

  The journey across the Great Northern Fens is a trek of many leagues taking many days. But after the first day on the bank of the wide river, the clockwork of the heavens reasserts itself. With the diurnal acension of two suns over a clear horizon to the east.

  While the return of the familiar dawn is reassuring, the company does not slow its pace. Still anxious about the fiery inferno that flared over the horizon while they bivouacked in the hammock of stone trees.

  Finally, after several days’ swift progress along the banks of the great river, it shallows out and the company is able to wade across to the eastern side.

  But the dry, solid bank soon peters out as the river disappears into the multitude of small streams and surface runoff that feed it. And the landscape turns to pools and mire, making firm footing impossible.

  The farther they travel into the fens, the harder it is to make good progress. Standing water and mucky soil make for slow going through the boggy terrain.

  So flooded is the marshland that the greatest challenge is to find sufficient dry ground to sleep each night.

  The exhausted, frustrated, sleep-deprived company finally reach the first sign of relief on their long journey.

  It is the faint, serrated profile of low foothills crouching beneath the shadow of high sierras in the far distance to the northwest. They form a range the men know well. As their mind’s eye calls up the vision of orderly rows in cultivated fields running toward the base of the foothills.

  At the same time, the earth is regaining its firm, solid feel as the travelers near the northern margin of the fens.

  The next morning, after sleeping on the first high ground they have encountered in many days, the company strike out due east toward the bright dawn.

  Hoping that, at the end of the journey, their destination is still there.

  It is a trek of many more anxious days and nights before they arrive.

  At riven fields that fruit no more.

  And a seaside escarpment that is no more.

  Mei-o-Peia and her sisters console their mates as the young men climb mournfully up the slope of upthrust ridge that now separates the land from the sea. Cresting its height, they kneel, defeated and devastated, along the newly carved, unfamiliar cliffs.

  Staring dispiritedly at the now tranquil ocean where their homestead and the cave-dwellings of their furry friends once stood.

  All their previous world is gone.

  Nothing remains, save the soulful desolation of the seven survivors who once dwelt here.

  Chapter 21. Regenesis

  It is a day of despair for Adam and his brothers as they can find no sign of their parents.

  The homestead they grew up in is no more and, as Shem reckons the distance between cliff and field, the very ground it sat upon has disappeared into the ocean.

  The land that remains is a ruin of rubble and upthrust earth forming the high ridge along the crest of the cliffs.

  Giving their mates space to grieve, Mei-o-Peia and her sisters fan out to inspect the ground leading to the fields. They know it may have a story to tell and if so, with their tracking proficiency from many hunts among the cone-mountains, they possess the skills to read it.

  Em-o-Peia is first to discover the telltale signs of recent passage between two rows of the withered plants in the field. But the prints are broad and indistinct.

  They were not made by human feet, she is sure, but neither are they the paw prints of any animal in her experience. No, they appear to be something in between.

  Then it hits her!

  “Look here, sisters,” she exclaims. “It is a file of several sets of footprints. Leading farther inland, away from this place. Thankfully, this patch of ground escaped the destruction all around it.

  “The prints are blurry but readable. They were not left by any human feet, nor by the paws of any animal we are familiar with.

  “In fact,” she avers, “they are the very image of what we would expect from the furry bipeds Ham so graphically described to me in our journey here!”

  The approaching dusk falls on fourteen figures marching into the twilight between the husks of dead, dessicated plants.

  Leaving the fields behind, the company continue to follow the smudged prints toward the setting suns. Until they enter a tree-line. Disappearing into the gloaming.

  “It is too dark for tracking,” Mei-o-Peia observes, “and we are in a good, sheltered place to rest this night. Let us bed down here and resume the pursuit at first light.”

  Readily agreeing, the brothers and sisters pair off and are soon asleep among the trees.

  For the brothers, this is familiar ground. It is where they played together, as children, with their furry friends. And they know there is nothing for them to fear here in the protective womb of the wood.

  The next morning finds the couples walking away from the twin suns of early dawn.

  Keen-eyed An-o-Peia picked up the trail while there was barely light to see, and the company make swift progress along the forest trail.

  The suns are still low in the eastern sky when they emerge from the wood at the base of the foothills. That is when the prints disappear. As if those they track have vanished into thin air!

  “The
y must have climbed the slope,” Adam surmises. “Leaving no trace in the scree along the hillside.

  “There are many caves here, including the cavern we hid in as children. We will climb to that. It is closest.”

  While the scatter of rocks is irregular and uneven, they have settled over the ages into a firm, unyielding surface. And the company is noiseless in their approach to the cavern.

  Adam is in the lead and, as he peers into its dark depth, he is struck speechless!

  There, sleeping in one another’s embrace, are Noah and Davina.

  As the couple wake, they, too, are speechless. While their hearts soar at the sight of Adam and his brothers, they are bewildered and amazed at the seven who accompany them.

  Leaping up, Noah and Davina embrace every one of their sons in turn. It is a tearful reunion, sweetened by release of their anxiety and relief at their sons’ safe return.

  Even as they hug each son, the couple cast puzzled, questioning glances at their companions. Not quite believing their eyes. Hoping against hope the seven women are not mirages.

  “They are lovely,” Davina thinks to herself.

  Except for their lustrous raven hair, copper skin and emerald-green eyes, Noah reflects, they could be the daughters of Davina herself.

  The same exquisite figure.

  The same pert nose and full lips.

  The same lithe and supple carriage.

  Even their brash nakedness is not an uncomely distraction, serving only to accentuate the natural beauty of these remarkable creatures.

  The boys appear smitten. Neither parent wonders why.

  “Mother . . . Father,” Adam begins. “It is time you meet our mates.”

  In movements that almost seem choreographed, each of the brothers embraces his mate as the eldest continues.

  “Ours is a long story. But first we must know what has happened to our home and what has become of our furry friends.”

  Noah speaks up: “Our seaside cliffs were consumed by volcanism. An inferno triggered by subduction beneath the sea. It is a process I explained to you boys in our study of the geography of the planet.

  “I confess I did not expect it could happen here. There are no outward signs that we lie in a convergence zone between tectonic plates separating the continent from the ocean floor.

  “The trembling earth gave us fair warning of the cataclysm to come. As it was, the furry bipeds and we escaped in the nick of time.

  “They did not linger, but immediately struck out to find a new home up the coast in the far north. Across the arctic tundra. In the polar region of ice and snow. To a place the leader said was foretold to him.

  “We chose to remain here. Awaiting your return. Knowing you would find your way back to us.”

  Having said his piece, Noah turns to Adam and adds, “but you come not alone!”

  Pulling Mei-o-Peia closer, Adam smiles back at his parents as he relates the tale of their meeting.

  The attack of the sea-wolf.

  The appearance of Mei-o-Peia, first in his coma-induced visions, then in the corporeal world.

  The reunion with his brothers and the miraculous appearance of the sisters trailing them.

  Their journey from the abandoned wicker craft, across delta and fen, back to the riven cliffs and the ruin that was home.

  “Like you and mother, we have mates now,” Adam concludes.

  Hardly has Adam uttered the final syllable when Mei-o-Peia speaks up:

  “My sisters and I have sailed across a savage sea to find Adam and his brothers.

  “From our island of cone-mountains that was reclaimed by the sea.

  “Against the great predators that stalk the waves. And primal forces unleashed by the ocean itself.

  “To a destiny foretold to us.

  “We were drawn through the towering arches guarded by the sea-wolves and guided to the very shore your sons had journeyed to. The place Adam calls ‘land’s end’.

  “To complete a quest ordained by the spirit of the world . . .

  “For a prize even now stirring within us.”

  Turning her gaze to Davina, she pledges:

  “Together, your sons and we sisters shall renew the world!”

  Smiling back, Davina affirms:

  “Daughters, sons, you are the great hope of the world.

  “Through you shall a new generation be born. To sustain the planet we share. Through every new generation to the end of time!”

  Speaking up, Lin-o-Peia notes:

  “At present, it appears we are all victims of a capricious planet. You, too, have lost your home. We all have been orphaned by forces beyond our understanding or control.”

  Reassuring the group, Noah elucidates:

  “These elemental forces are not beyond our comprehension. I have taught our sons about them, and we will share that knowledge with you as well. As for the destruction of our homestead, I say to you:

  “Just as Eos lifts the dark cloak of Erebus with each new dawn, so may new life and promise spring from capricious misfortune. We all have lost our home. But we do not grieve. No, we rejoice in possibilities that were unthinkable just a few short days ago.

  “For us, this marks an auspicious new beginning. When in all the ages of human experience did a race launch its line with the blessings we enjoy? Empirical knowledge of the applied sciences. An organic accommodation to a sustaining natural world. Even seeds harvested from cultivated fields. And most important, the divine gift of new life in these fearless seekers from across the sea!

  “Our cliff-side neighbors go north to reclaim the frozen legacy of their ancestors. But their way is not our way. We go west to the temperate lands bequeathed to us by the spirit of the world.

  “Our destiny lies there!”

  With that, the family of Noah and Davina—now larger by seven, soon to be larger still by seven more—harvest silver fish and fresh water from nearby streams, eating and drinking their fill.

  The rest of the day is spent in lively conversation, as they relate all that has happened during their lengthy separation.

  Noah and Davina alone are silent and thoughtful. Observing the interactions and chemistry between the sons and their newfound mates.

  Nature’s brides. Daughters chosen by the Earth Spirit herself!

  It is apparent to Noah that these remarkable women are the more assertive and that his sons are content to let them take the lead in all matters, great and small.

  While Davina admires the sisters’ ingenuity in which taking charge becomes an act of tenderness and profound endearment.

  “Like a mother’s love,” she muses contentedly.

  As evening draws nigh, the brothers scatter into the forest and gather deadfall to build a large, roaring fire. To celebrate the ready acceptance of their mates on this first day of reunion.

  The couples continue talking into the night and, finally, retire to their respective places in the cavern. To dream about the boundless possibilities of a future as yet unwritten.

  The twilight of early morning finds Noah and Davina, alone, sitting at the mouth of the cavern. Looking to the east.

  Breaking the silence, Noah reflects:

  “We have lost a home, but gained a world.

  “A promising world for our children and our children’s children.

  “That, dear Davina, will be our precious, lasting legacy!”

  Embracing the joyous thought, and one another, each welcomes this auspicious beginning. As they resolve to cross the sierras and strike out into the unexplored lands to the west.

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  Snow blankets the western rim of the high mountain pass. Nestled between the stony crags and soaring peaks of the lofty sierras. It is a portal between the coastal plain to the east and the limitless frontier stretching west across the supercontinent.

  The pass is a still, windless place, and its field of frost is smooth and unbroken. Until a small, dark, wet muzzle cautiously nudges upward. Breaking through the seamless dri
ft of snow.

  The whiskered muzzle quivers. Sniffing tentatively at the stillness. Chuffing wispy vapors of breath into the thin alpine air.

  Satisfied, the small, white stoat-like creature emerges from the frost and pauses on the crystalline surface. While the unmoving air carries no scent and while it is yet too early for the newly rising suns to cast shadows, the ermine detects movement to the east.

  A file of unfamiliar figures, walking on two legs alone, approach the western rim of the high mountain pass. Startled, the stoat retreats to its den beneath the snow.

  The intruders carry long lances. And each totes a water gourd and fully laden rucksack. Containing the seeds of cultivated plants as well as basic tools to sow and tend them.

  Passing the ermine’s hidden lair, the sixteen travelers arrive at the western edge of the pass. Where they are greeted by a panorama of breathtaking grandeur.

  Even the faint half-light of early dawn cannot dim the splendor and radiance of the landscape to the west.

  Majestic niagaras cascade down the slope of the high sierras. Watering a vast terrain of rivers and lakes. Nourishing a verdant tapestry of thick coniferous forest bordering spacious open meadows alive with blossoming flowers of every color.

  It is the divinely inspired architecture of the natural world. An ecosystem in perfect balance. Vibrant with life.

  Sixteen souls feel a welcome and a warmth even the cool air of the high mountain pass cannot dispel.

  As if to confirm their optimism, twin suns ascend the eastern rim of the pass behind them

  Like Eos rising,

  Welcoming the bright new dawn,

  Ushering in the regenesis of a world that once was

  And is born once more.

  Other titles by D. Scott Dickinson:

  The Little Box Turtle

  The Dark Side of Town – A Portrait of the Jim Crow South

  The First Nowell – A Cornish Christmas Carol

  Soundings – A Chapbook of Verse